A Little Harmless Revenge
by Smackalicious
Summary: Grudges are never good. Especially when the grudge holder knows how to get you good. McGiva and Palmer&Lee pairings. Featuring the cast of NCIS as spies! Further notes inside. Story is complete.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: A Little Harmless Revenge  
Rating: PG-13  
Category: Action/Adventure, Humor  
Genre: Het  
Characters: Palmer, Lee, Ducky, McGee, Ziva, Gibbs, Tony, Abby  
Pairing: Palmer/Lee, McGee/Ziva  
Warnings: None.  
Summary: Grudges are never good . . . especially when the grudge holder knows how to _get_ you good.  
Spoilers: Definitely none.  
Disclaimer: These characters belong to DPB, CBS, Paramount, et al. No copyright infringement is intended.  
Author's Notes: Written for The Man (or Woman) From NCIS challenge, which puts our intrepid NCIS folk into roles similar to those from The Man From U.N.C.L.E., or more simply, spies. Not really intended to be serious, as Man From U.N.C.L.E. isn't that serious in and of itself.**

* * *

**Chapter One**

"_Lockdown occurring in ten . . . nine . . . eight . .."_

A figure swathed entirely in black scurried from one end of the steel gray room to the other, hissing into a hand held radio. "Blacklung! Do you read, Blacklung?"

Another figure in black raised their own radio to their lips. "I copy, Little Legs. What do you have?"

"The doors are closing. We have to get out of here!"

"_. . . three . . . two . . ."_

"I've got you, Little Legs!"

Blacklung swooped down from the balcony on which he'd been standing, descending on a titanium rope, and captured Little Legs to his body in a deft motion, allowing the sheer force of the rope swinging to take them back to the balcony, where they landed with a thud. He released the rope, then the duo turned to watch the heavy metal doors slam shut with a dull thud, letting out identical sighs of relief when the motion was completed.

Blacklung removed the mask that had been hiding his features, revealing a baby face topped with curly brown hair. "That was a close one, huh?"

His partner, now revealed to be a sweet-looking Asian woman, scowled at him. "Too close, Jimmy. We have to be more careful. You know NCIS is always looking for infiltrations!"

He let out a sigh. "I'll do better next time, Michelle." He attempted to bring her close to him. "Come on, baby . . ."

She wormed out of his grasp. "No, Jimmy. There won't _be _a next time, not at this rate." She began walking away, leaving Jimmy resigned in the background.

Jimmy wandered back towards the balcony railing. He was really hoping this mission would have gone more smoothly. As it was, he was in danger from being fired from his job as a stuntsman for the Western Virginian Actors Troupe. They routinely broke into buildings that made for good sets to practice for upcoming shows, and the NCIS building had been difficult to break into, but the set-up was perfect for the Terminator-style live action show they were putting on next month.

The only reason he had even know of the NCIS building in the first place was in talking to one of the elder actors in the troupe – a Donald Mallard, who went by the nickname Ducky. Truthfully, aside from Michelle, Ducky was Jimmy's favorite person in the troupe. He was an incredible actor, able to take on any role, from Shakespeare to the role of a slightly long-winded autopsy technician. Ducky had told tales of a spy agency right in the heart of Washington, D.C., known by the title of NCIS.

But what Jimmy didn't know was how Ducky was aware of NCIS. Mr. Mallard was, in fact, a retired secret agent for NCIS . . . well, retired isn't exactly the right word. NCIS, which stands for the New Confederation of International Spies, had actually let Ducky go, citing reasons unknown, which Ducky knew meant they thought he was too old. Since then, he held a bit of an understandable grudge against the agency and had been looking for a way to get back at them. Letting the cat out of the bag about the agency's existence seemed like just the right way to do so.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

A smartly dressed tourist couple wandered along the streets of D.C., peering in shop windows, cooing over the expensive jewelry and electronic devices – as well as each other. This particular couple couldn't keep their hands off each other; he'd slide his hand down her back to land on her behind and she would smack it away playfully, or she would lean in to whisper something in his ear and get just close enough to nip at the lobe. The behavior annoyed the bitter love-hungry singles who wandered past – as well as a certain Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

"_Can't you two just keep your minds on the case?"_ Gibbs' voice sounded in the woman's ear.

She pouted. "I am completely focused, Gibbs. I do not know about McGee . . ."

"Hey!" The man now named as McGee exclaimed, insulted. "I know what we're here to do. And Ziva and I weren't the ones who had the idea of going undercover as a couple, anyway."

"_Just keep the ass-grabbing to a minimum,"_ Gibbs' voice sounded again.

Ziva smirked. "So I can continue with the ear nipping?"

"_Focus on the case, Ziva. Then you can play."_

Ziva let out a purr. "Mmm, yes." She squeezed McGee's hand. "Let us finish here, then, Timothy. I do believe there is a special back at the hotel – what was it? Champagne and strawberries?"

McGee frowned. "But neither one of us even likes strawberries, Ziva."

She gave him a devious look. "Perhaps not to eat . . ."

"_Ziva . . ."_ Gibbs' tone was dangerous.

"Of course, I can fill you in when we arrive back there," she continued, then stopped walking, causing McGee to stumble a bit, as he was still holding her hand.

"What is it, Ziva?" he hissed.

She tipped her head towards a couple walking on the opposite side of the street. "Them. They seem . . . familiar."

McGee raised an eyebrow at her. "Hinky familiar?"

Ziva nodded slowly. "Yes. A bit. I am not sure why. But I do not like things feeling hinky." She raised her arm and spoke into her bracelet. "Hinky Alert on young couple walking along South Michigan, 500 block. He is white with curly brown hair, she is Asian."

The message was sent back to NCIS, where desk agents would recover video footage and begin an identity search. The Hinky Alerts were used when spies in the field felt there was something off about a certain person, or persons, or if a situation felt wrong. It was all part of the NCIS motto: "Go with your gut."

"Come on," McGee urged softly, tugging on Ziva's hand. "We don't want to arouse suspicion."

She turned back to him. "You had me at arouse. Shall we?" She slid her hand from his grasp and snaked it around his waist, pulling him closer to her.

Back at NCIS Headquarters, Gibbs sat at his desk, shaking his head. He knew he never should have put those two together as an undercover couple. Ziva's mind was constantly on sex and McGee, well, he just couldn't say no to the woman. Gibbs couldn't blame him, really – Ziva was _hot_. But it was still distracting to their work and he wasn't sure if it was the best idea to put them together in that situation. Still, he had to admit, they worked well together and didn't, as McGee put it, "arouse suspicion" from everyday citizens and, more importantly, their enemies. There was always someone to find and put away, whether it was the CIA (Correlation of Idiotic Americans) or the FBI (Fornell's Body of Investigators – okay, that was a pretty small group, just Fornell and his team, but still, they were bad guys) or just plain out murderers or grave robbers. Yes, NCIS was all about keeping America safe from harm, and if that meant shooing stupid people off the streets and into federal prisons, well, NCIS was there to do that. And Gibbs, as Head of NCIS, was there to keep everything organized and running smoothly, even if that meant . . .

Gibbs stood from his desk, his chair falling over softly to the floor. "What the hell is that?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"Ducky!" Lee's voice rang cheerfully down the block as she and Palmer met up with the friendly older man.

He smiled warmly at the duo. "Why, Michelle, Mr. Palmer, it is lovely to see the both of you."

"You as well, Mr. Mallard," Jimmy said, placing an arm around Michelle's shoulders protectively.

She gently shrugged his arm away, eyes still glued on Ducky. "Have you seen the script for the new show?"

Ducky chuckled. "Yes, I have, and I must say, I am quite excited about it. I get to be the autopsy technician again! That is my favorite role."

Michelle grinned. "I love you in that role, Ducky. Say," she began to wander away from Jimmy, "I've been looking for a tutor to help me learn my lines better. Would you be willing to help?"

"Oh, my dear girl, I would be delighted!" he responded, eyes bright. "As a matter of fact, I was headed to my favorite little teahouse for a reading right now. Would you care to join me?"

"I would love that, Ducky!" she breathed, taking the hand he offered and turning to walk down the sidewalk with him.

Jimmy fumed to himself. How dare he! Just because he was older and more experienced an actor and _foreign_, he thought he could just take all the girls. Well, he'd show him. He'd show him alright.

"Tonight," he said to himself, glaring at the laughing, retreating figures. "Tonight it'll all come together."

He turned to stalk off in the direction he had just come, muttering his devious scheme to himself.

Across the street, Ziva and McGee now stood, staring openly. McGee turned to Ziva as Jimmy rounded the corner. "That was very . . ."

"Hinky?" she supplied, turning to face him. "Yes. I agree. We should get back to NCIS, find out what the Hinky Alert turned up."

"But room service will be over in an hour, Ziva!" McGee pouted.

"_Forget the hotel, McGee." _Gibbs zoned back in on their conversation. _"Keep an eye on Palmer."_

McGee narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Who?"

"_The hinky one!" _Gibbs boomed. _"You better hurry up. He's getting away."_

"Right," McGee nodded. "On it, Boss."

He grabbed Ziva by the arm, pointing her in the direction Palmer had went. "You heard Gibbs. We gotta tail Palmer."

Ziva let out a sigh as Palmer turned yet another corner. "We will never catch up with him now."

McGee gave her a dazzling smile, almost like he had fell asleep with his bleaching kit in. "Never say never, my dear," he said in a deep voice, then surreptitiously unzipped his pants, releasing The Spymobile . . . and _no_, that is _not _a codename.

A silver scooter appeared on the sidewalk near them and, after looking to make sure no one had witnessed the strange occurrence, they walked to it, McGee taking the driver's position (he wanted to live, after all) and Ziva settling in behind him, scooting as close as humanly possible to him on the seat – if she had to work and miss out on her fun hotel time with McGee, she was going to make good use of it.

McGee sputtered away from the sidewalk, zooming down the road in the direction Palmer had disappeared. He hadn't been walking too fast, and the scooter could go up to 25 miles an hour, so it didn't take them long at all to spot him.

"There!" Ziva exclaimed, pointing at him.

"Shh!" McGee ordered, reaching behind him and pushing her arm down. "Not so loud, Ziva."

She smirked, pressing her lips to his neck. "That is not what you said last night . . ."

He scowled. "Ziva, you have to focus. You don't want to get fired like Ducky, do you?"

She frowned. "Ducky got fired because he was thinking about having sex with you?"

"No, Ziva!" McGee let out a sigh. "Focus on finding what Palmer's up to and _then _we can think about sex."

She huffed. "Fine. But I am _not _letting you out of that room once we get back."

Back at NCIS, Gibbs shook his head. Sometimes he felt tempted to smack Ziva right on the rearend . . . for misbehaving while on a mission, of course. But she was a big girl and she probably wouldn't take too well to a spanking – not for those reasons, anyway. Or who knows, she might, but . . .

Gibbs shook himself free of the thought. _Ziva must be wearing off on me_, he thought. He focused his attention back on the dual screens in front of him, one featuring Ziva and McGee and The Spymobile, tracking down Palmer and whatever devious plan he was scheming, and the other focused on Ducky and young sweet Michelle, now entering a teahouse a few blocks away.

"Damnit, Ducky," he muttered to himself. "You were always one of our best. And now because of you, you're risking blowing Ziva and McGee's covers. I can't let that happen."

He turned his eyes back to the screen featuring Ducky. Hours of work and it all came down to a cup of tea . . .


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Ziva slipped her arms around McGee's waist and settled her chin on his shoulder as they surveilled Palmer. The young stuntsman wandered over to the back of a molasses factory, scratching his head and whistling nonchalantly, which Ziva and McGee both rolled their eyes at – he wasn't fooling anyone with that act; they knew he was up to something.

Suddenly, his next movements caused Ziva to let out a gasp. Palmer had just picked the lock on the back door and slipped inside!

"My _God_," Ziva breathed.

"I know," McGee agreed, shaking his head. "Such a blatant disregard for . . ."

"That was _incredibly_ sexy," Ziva interrupted, the purr evident in her voice.

McGee turned his head to glare at her, not an easy task, considering she was pretty much an inch away from his face in the first place. "Can we not promote disobeying the law, Ziva?"

She smirked. "Also another thing which you did not say last night."

"_I think I've heard enough about you two's sex life to last the rest of my life," _Gibbs' voice sounded from McGee's ear again.

"Sorry, Boss," McGee said. "We'll get in there and find out what Palmer's up to." He made as if to get off the scooter, but Gibbs' voice stopped him.

"_No, McGee." _McGee sat again. _"I'll send out someone else to take care of Palmer. I have a different mission for you two."_

McGee raised an eyebrow as Gibbs explained the details, then shrugged, starting the scooter up again and speeding away, Ziva hanging on to him.

Back at NCIS, Gibbs sighed to himself. He needed to find out Ducky's plan, just what he was hoping to accomplish by stealing some poor guy's young girlfriend – and why the duo had seemed so hinky to Ziva. That's why he was sending McGee and Ziva over to the teahouse while he sent someone else to deal with Palmer – namely, himself.

Gibbs knew he couldn't jeopardize this case by involving another spy from the agency – the fact that Ducky was involved made things complicated, and the only people who really needed to know about the operation were himself and his top spies, Ziva and McGee.

He stood from his desk, switching off the monitors displaying their targets, then walked out the door . . .

. . . just as Ziva and McGee entered the teahouse to which Ducky had taken Michelle. They did their duties as the yuppie tourist couple, McGee's hand gently caressing the small of Ziva's back as they approached the counter.

"Hello," a soft-voiced woman greeted them, giving them a friendly smile. "What can I get for the two of you?"

"I will have green tea," Ziva announced, then turned to McGee.

"Uh, I . . ." McGee scratched his head. He wasn't much of a tea drinker. "Do you have coffee?"

The soft-voiced woman – Gabrielle, her nametag read – gave him a blank look. "I am afraid not. Can I interest you in some orange pekoe?"

McGee shrugged. "Sure."

Gabrielle smiled and turned to brew their drinks, leaving Ziva and McGee to peruse the clientele and continue their search for Ducky and Michelle. McGee nudged Ziva and pointed to an intimate booth in a far corner of the room – the duo sat side by side, studying a sheaf of papers, one or the other of them letting out a heartfelt laugh every once in awhile.

"That is interesting," Ziva muttered, turning back to the counter to retrieve her tea.

"Thank you," McGee said, doing the same and paying for their drinks. He took his tea in hand and they examined their choice of tables. "Where would be our best viewing point?"

Ziva nodded toward a table diagonal from where their subjects were sitting. "There. We should be able to see what they do and hear their conversation from that table."

McGee smiled. "Then off we go, my dear." Ziva smiled and slid her hand into the crook of his arm, allowing him to lead her to their table.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Meanwhile, back at the molasses factory, Palmer was busy practicing for the series of slow-motion scenes the Troupe had decided to insert into their next show. He knew they had came to the decision to try to scare him out of performing – they wanted him out of the Troupe, simply because, well, he was just better-looking than the rest of the stuntsmen. They felt threatened by his cute-guy-who-is-actually-really-hot, Clark-Kent-turned-Superman good looks. He was an unsuspecting hottie, and that was something the other stuntsmen – a group of over-steroided musclemen – just couldn't handle.

But none of that is really important right now – Palmer had just trespassed on private property and it was up to Gibbs and NCIS to keep such a thing from happening again.

Gibbs pulled up about a block from the factory and stepped from the car, then turned and waited for the person in his passenger seat to exit.

"I'm amazed we're still alive, Jethro," his companion's voice came over the roof of the car.

Gibbs slammed his door shut. "What did I tell you about calling me 'Jethro,' Tony?"

Tony grimaced. "Right. Boss?"

Gibbs smirked. "That's better. Now, come on. I didn't steal you away from Sciuto's team for nothing. Let's get in there and get this Palmer guy put away." They ran toward the building.

Tony, full name Anthony DiNozzo, was generally someone who worked in the tech labs with the head of their tech unit, Abby Sciuto, but Gibbs pulled him out into the field occasionally when he needed backup himself, as Tony used to be a field agent and had been transferred to Abby's team per her request. Personally, Gibbs thought it was so Abby had some mancandy to stare at when things got a bit dull, but he wasn't about to deny her anything – she was the backbone behind their field operations and without her, they wouldn't be able to collect half the intel they did.

The two men kicked open the factory's backdoor, entering with an air of stealth James Bond would have been proud of. They crept inside the dimly lit room, the smell of the bittersweet amber concoction filling their nostrils.

"Molasses factory?" Tony muttered once the smell hit him. "Seriously?"

"Maybe the guy just really likes cookies," Gibbs deadpanned, scoping out the giant mixers full of the sticky substance.

"Right, cookies," Tony said, nodding. "Hey! Maybe I should bring some back for Abby! You know how much she loves sweet stuff . . ." Gibbs turned to him, glaring, and he cleared his throat, apologizing. "Yeah, you're right. We're working. No cookies."

Gibbs turned back to the room in general, smirking. "Not unless you're good." He froze at hearing a slight noise across the room. "Tony," he hissed, then nodded toward the far side of the room once Tony looked at him, "I think he's over there."

Tony nodded. "On it." He sped across the room, past the bowls and bowls of syrupy goodness, to where Gibbs had pointed – a platform, presumably where workers stood to mix the molasses. There stood their suspect, Palmer, preparing to step down into a fairly empty vat, with just enough molasses to cover his ankles and make his movements considerably slower.

However, Tony called out, "Freeze, scumbag!" just as he was about to step into that vat, surprising him and causing him to topple over and fall . . . into a full vat.

"Aw, shit!" Tony muttered, quickly climbing the stairs to the platform and looking down at the rapidly sinking Palmer. "Sorry, man!"

Gibbs ran up behind Tony, clambering up the stairs and looking down with him. "You idiot! And you wonder why you're working with Abby!"

Tony frowned, turning to Gibbs. "I thought she wanted me down there . . ."

"Well, do ya think I'd have given up a competent spy? Jesus." He sighed, looking down at Palmer's flailing arms. "We're gonna have to go in there and get him now."

"But Boss, come on," Tony started, receiving a glare in return from Gibbs. "Uh, I mean, the guy trespassed on public property. And if there's conspiracy against NCIS here . . ."

He was cut off by Gibbs shoving a hand over his mouth. "Don't mention that name in his presence, Tony. He's in a vat of molasses, not deaf."

"Well, then what are we going to do about him?" Tony whispered.

Gibbs nodded slowly. "We take him back to headquarters. I'm sure Abby can cook up a fitting form of . . . _interrogation _for Mr. Palmer." He turned to Tony, a sly grin on his face, then pulled a phone from his pocket, dialing. "Ziva. Have you and McGee finished at the teahouse? Good, good. Meet me back at headquarters in 20. I have another job for the two of you." He ended the call and turned to Tony. "And that is how NCIS does it."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

McGee wandered into NCIS, looking dazed. Ziva trailed in behind him, wiping stray lipstick from her mouth. Gibbs saw the duo enter and rolled his eyes.

"Stop off for some fun?" he asked upon seeing their reactions.

McGee snapped out of it and looked at Gibbs. "No! I mean, Ziva drove back . . ."

"That explains it," Tony's voice entered the conversation.

Ziva glared at him. "What is Tony doing here? Shouldn't he be making supercharged battery nodules to attach to our victims?" Gibbs gave her a look. "I'm sorry. Participants."

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but Gibbs beat him to it. "I brought him with me to apprehend Palmer."

"And what happened?" McGee asked.

"I took him to Abby," Gibbs replied, smiling wickedly.

Ziva pouted. "I wanted to do the interrogation."

McGee rubbed her back. "Maybe next time, dear. Gibbs obviously has plans for Palmer."

"As well as Lee," Gibbs said, nodding. He frowned. "If we could just figure out what Ducky was up to . . ."

"The easiest way to do so would be to ask, Jethro," a voice sounded from behind McGee and Ziva.

McGee rolled his eyes. "Well, we can't just . . ." He trailed off and slowly turned, realizing who had said the words. "Ducky! Hi!"

Ducky stood with Michelle, who was trembling and clinging to his arm. "I must say I was disappointed when I lost my position with the Confederation," Ducky said, walking closer to Gibbs, dragging Michelle with him. "I thought there was more of a moral structure to NCIS than that."

Gibbs sighed. "Ducky, you know the spy world is changing . . ."

"Yes, everyone is young and sexy these days," he responded, pointing at Ziva and McGee, who looked at each other with pleased looks. "But I will have you know, Jethro, that experience still counts for something in some areas."

"You old dog, you," Tony said, grinning, then noticed the glare Michelle shot him and dropped the smile, slinking down into a chair.

"I was referring to my new job, where I met the lovely Ms. Lee," Michelle smiled broadly, "and the enigmatic Mr. Palmer."

"What kind of job would that be, Ducky?" Ziva asked, eyes narrowed.

"He's one of the best actors in the West Virginian Actors Troupe," Michelle provided, still smiling. Gibbs looked to Ziva and McGee for affirmation. They shrugged and nodded. Lee was telling the truth. She looked back and forth among the spies, registering that something was a little . . . hinky. "What's going on? You were spying on us?"

Ziva rolled her eyes. "That _is _what spies do, Ms. Lee."

Her eyes widened. "Where's Jimmy? Is he okay? Oh my God, he never meant to hurt anyone! He was just getting ready for our next show!" Tears shone in her eyes and slowly made their way down her cheeks.

"Uh, Boss?" Tony's voice came.

"Call up Abby," Gibbs ordered, his eyes still focused on Lee. "She's telling the truth. He's not gonna hurt anyone." He turned and found Tony on the phone, hoping to catch Abby before she began the process of prepping Palmer for what could be the most . . . _interesting _experience of his life.

"No answer, Boss," Tony announced, hanging up the phone.

"Let's go," Gibbs said, walking to the elevator. Tony got up from where he had been sitting and jogged to catch up, followed by Ziva and McGee. They reached the elevator and Gibbs turned back to Ducky and Lee. "Well, come on." They quickly joined the rest of the group.

The ride to Abby's tech lab seemed to take an excruciatingly long time, but they finally reached the basement level and made their way to save Jimmy Palmer. As they were walking down the hallway, they heard a high-pitched voice cry out, "No! Help! Oh God!"

That was their signal to step it into high gear. McGee, Tony and Gibbs all unzipped their pants simultaneously, causing three identical Spymobiles to zoom up beside them (well, okay, Gibbs' was a little bigger, but that was only because he's the Head of NCIS).

"Lee, you're with me," Gibbs ordered. "Ducky, go with Tony."

"Aww, man," Tony whined. "Gibbs always gets the girl."

They sped down the hallway, expertly reaching Abby's lab in just minutes. The Spymobiles shuddered to a halt and Gibbs turned to the group before they entered. "Ziva, McGee, I need you two to distract anyone walking past." They turned to each other and shrugged, then started kissing passionately. The rest of the group looked on in shock, and Gibbs cleared his throat. Ziva and McGee parted and looked at him. "You could wait until we're in the lab."

"Right," McGee nodded. "Sorry."

Gibbs turned to the rest of the group. "Come on. Let's get in there."

Gibbs, Tony, Ducky and Lee entered Abby's lab, hoping it wasn't too late to stop the interrogation Abby had planned. They saw Abby standing behind a glass partition, watching her torture in progress.

"Abby, stop the interrogation!" Gibbs called out, and she turned to face him, surprised.

"But Gibbs, this is so much fun!" she whined, stamping her foot.

Tony brushed past Gibbs to see what Abby had cooked up. "Oh, nice! You are a genius!"

Abby grinned. "When he said, 'I just hope it's not cats!' I knew I had my torture device."

The group looked into the partitioned-off room, where Palmer was strapped down to a table, still covered in molasses, which was slowly being licked off by dozens of kittens. His voice howled from the room. "Oh, it tickles! Make it stop!" He laughed maniacally, then sneezed.

"He's allergic, please stop!" Michelle begged Abby.

She rolled her eyes. "Ruin my fun," she muttered, then unlocked the torture chamber, stepping in and calling out, "Here, kitty kitty!" The kittens heard her voice and leapt from the table, scurrying across the floor to her. She picked up a particularly fluffy one that was still licking its lips and turned to the group outside. "Okay, torture off!"

Gibbs quickly entered the room, unstrapping Palmer from the table. He sat up slowly, peeling himself from the metal, wincing at the noise it made.

"Oh, Jimmy, I was so worried about you!" Michelle cried out, rushing to hug him, then remembering that he was covered in molasses and stopping just short of him. "What were you thinking?"

He looked down at the floor, embarrassed. "I guess I just . . . I saw how excited you were to go off with Ducky . . . And you were already angry with me from screwing up our rehearsal the other day." He looked back up at her. "I'm sorry, Michelle."

"Oh, Jimmy," she breathed, crying again. "I never meant for you to doubt me. I'm not interested in anyone but you." She giggled. "If you weren't covered in molasses right now, I would kiss you."

Palmer allowed a smile to grace his face. "I should probably, uh, go get cleaned up." He made to leave the room, but Gibbs stuck a hand out, preventing his exist.

"First, you tell us why you were in NCIS last night," Gibbs said.

Palmer's face reddened. "Um, I, well . . ."

"It is my fault, Jethro." Gibbs turned to face Ducky, who shrugged. "I may have informed my fellow actors that NCIS would be a good place to practice for our next show." He sighed. "I apologize. I was just so angry about my dismissal."

To everyone's surprise, Gibbs simply smirked. "A little harmless revenge, Duck?"

Ducky shrugged, smiling a bit. "I figured these two wouldn't do any real damage. They even concocted delightful codenames!"

Abby lit up. "Ooh, really? What were they?"

"Blacklung," Palmer said, blushing.

"And Little Legs," Michelle responded, also embarrassed.

"Well, Blacklung, Little Legs," Gibbs started, "we here at NCIS know of a few other agencies with similar facilities." He grinned. "Ever heard of the FBI?"

A few minutes later, after Gibbs had relayed the necessary information for Palmer and Lee to break into the FBI Headquarters (with NCIS' help, of course), they left Tony with Abby and exited the room, all in more jubilant moods.

"Alright," Gibbs said, his mood changing when they got into the hallway, "where are McGee and Ziva? I told them to . . ."

Suddenly, a loud, "Oh, _YES_!" from the elevator interrupted Gibbs' words.

Gibbs rolled his eyes, walking over to the stairs, beckoning for the remaining three to follow him. "I think we're better off avoiding the elevator."

Lee turned to Palmer and whispered to him. "Maybe we should try getting jobs as spies . . ."

He smiled at her. "In time, Little Legs. In time."

**THE END!!**


End file.
